For the third time since reaching the intersection, Hotch blared his horn at nobody. He'd been just about to run the yellow, and then the damn traffic light had turned. That little spot of red dangled high and taunting from above. Hotch honked again for good measure.
A man driving the new Audi in the far left lane was yelling something, presumably at Hotch. Exactly what he was yelling, or indeed if it was directed at him, Hotch couldn't discern over the pulsing in his ears. Oh God, his ear… The former prosecutor swore at the top of his lungs. If his fucking torn right eardrum started acting up again… The last time Hotch's hyperacusis had given him trouble while driving, he'd had to pull over until the high-pitched ringing had died down. Finally, the light turned green. Hotch gunned the accelerator, earning a few honks for himself.
The road rage that the Unit Chief was exhibiting that early morning was very un-Hotch like. Or, so said a berating voice inside his head. Unfortunately for his fellow motorists, Hotch had shed his steadfast conscience before he'd entered the vehicle. At least enough sound judgment had remained intact for him to resist running a red light.
Hotch turned sharply into Hadley Memorial's ER parking lot and sent up a silent prayer of thanks that the rest of his drive had remained unimpeded. As he marched through the automatic doors, he felt about a dozen pairs of eyes fix on him. The veteran profiler was fully aware of the effect that his presence had on people- the sharp suit, immaculately combed hair and patented glare shouted domineering to anyone who caught a glimpse, and rightly so. Hotch could intimidate a suspect in interrogation into pissing themselves, and he would use the same tactics to find Reid if he had to.
"I'm looking for a Doctor Spencer Reid. He's just been admitted."
The Unit Chief expected resistance, even suspicion on the part of the young woman that minded the nurse's station. But from the way her manicured hands flew straight to the keyboard, she must know he meant business. Good.
"Yes, alright. I believe Dr. Tinevez is tending to him in Exam Room B."
"…Where's Room B?"
"Oh, right! Of course, yes…"
The flustered nurse led him past injury after ailment after malady. Hotch heard the deep rumble of Morgan's voice, amplified in obvious anger, before he saw him. He was pacing around a curtain that was pulled around a small section of the tiled floor on three sides. Suddenly, a muffled yelp came from behind the partition.
"Dammit, you're hurting him!"
Hotch heard an exasperated sigh from inside the curtained-off area.
"I have already anesthetized the fracture. If he feels any discomfort, its probably because having curved artery forceps up his nose will take some getting used to. Mr. Morgan, kindly find your way to the waiting room. There's a floor guide about ten paces to your right."
Morgan clenched his jaw and flipped the rude doctor off through the curtain. He turned on his heel to resume pacing, only to find the Unit Chief blocking his path.
"Hotch, thank God-"
"Just tell me what happened."
Morgan agent took a breath and glanced in the direction of the injured young man that could neither see them nor be seen. Morgan ran a hand over his shaved head and lowered his voice:
"Reid shows up at my place in a bathrobe with his nose busted in. He was disoriented and shivering, totally soaking wet-"
"You said his nose… it's broken?"
"Oh, its definitely broken. Soon as I saw it, I knew I had to take him here…"
Morgan broke off, shaking his head.
"Do you know who did this?"
"He won't talk, man. He barely let me touch him…"
"I'm going in."
Perhaps Morgan knew better than to try and stop his boss, because he stepped aside despite what Hotch had heard the doctor say. As the Unit Chief ripped open the curtain, his heart clenched at the sight before him. Reid was stretched across the examination table, drenched in water and splattered in his own blood. He was bent back an awkward angle, his head tipped up. The boy had gone cross-eyed in his attempt to watch the physician as a nasal splint was smoothed across the forehead and newly reset nose. His eyes and those of the medical doctor now snapped to Hotch.
"What the- you have no author-"
"Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, Doctor Reid is my subordinate," Hotch cut in smoothly, "I'm responsible for his well-being in and out of the field. So yes, I do have authorization to be here. And I'll stay as long as he needs me."
There was a spluttering sound from the examination table. Reid had pulled away from the physician and slapped the man's gloved hands away. The boy yanked the packing out of his nostrils and fixed a threatening glower on his boss that was entirely at odds with his weakened condition.
"You think I need you? I can't believe... how dare… just GET OUT!"
Hotch was stunned. Was this because of the kiss? He knew that he'd messed up, that things between them were still up in the air. But didn't Reid understand that their unresolved… issues needed to be set aside in the wake of him getting beat up? Before Hotch could address the matter, the medical doctor spoke up.
"The man told you to leave. If you don't get out of my ER, I will have you bodily removed."
"A federal agent's been assaulted and you're dangerously close to interfering with the investigation. I can have you 'bodily removed' just as easily, and it won't be a trip to the waiting room."
After a tense beat of silence, the doctor threw his forceps and gloves into a tray and stormed out through the curtain. As the sound of his footsteps faded, Reid turned his bloodied, bandaged face to look at Hotch. There were tears in his eyes.
"Hotch, I… I'm…" The boy's voice faltered.
"Don't tell me you're fine," Hotch snapped. He couldn't stand this anymore, this power that Anderson had over the young man. That monster… How could anyone hurt such a gentle, innocent soul? "I know it was him, Reid."
This seemed to reignite the anger in the boy's eyes.
"You can't just... swoop in and try to take care of me! Morgan and Dr. Tinevez were doing a fine job before YOU messed everything up… the plaster hasn't even dried yet!"
Reid's hand was running gingerly over the cast that held his freshly set nose.
"Morgan called me here. He said that you've been avoiding questions… and you pull away violently when he tries to help."
"Thats because it hurt! It still hurts…"
Hotch sighed and softened his tone:
"If anything, that pain should show you the damage Anderson's done. You have to see that he's not right-"
"And you are?"
Their eyes met again, Hotch's intense, Reid's hurt and watery. Then the younger man's gaze flickered to the floor. He shifted on the table, absently pulling at the tie to his robe. Without looking back up, he spoke again with quiet determination:
"You kissed me Hotch, knowing full well that I'm committed to another man- the same man that you unjustly suspended from his job... which he needs, by the way. What makes you any more 'right' than Patrick?"
Hotch couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Committed" and "unjust" rang in his ears like his hyperacusis had almost done in the car. Was Reid actually comparing him to that brute? Hotch sank into a chair that he supposed had been occupied by Morgan only minutes before.
"Reid… Spencer," For the second time that early morning, the boy's attention was caught by the use of his first name. The young man's eyes widened as Hotch took his trembling hand in his own. "You deserve someone who adores you… who doesn't just appreciate your body, but worships it… who loves you for your mind," Hotch reached his free hand up to brush the drying chestnut hair away from Reid's forehead, "and your heart," the hand came to rest on the boy's thin, terry-cloth covered chest.
Reid's breath hitched and he gulped audibly. The sounds coming from the young man sent Hotch's mind reeling in conflict: He knew that he shouldn't, knew it was wrong… but to seal the words with a kiss in that moment seemed so right… slowly, Hotch leaned forward and gently caressed the boy's lips with his own.
Hotch pulled back to see a look of utter peace cross the young man's face. His eyes fluttered open, a dreamlike quality to them. Then Reid blinked, hard. The glassy orbs seemed to clear.
A sudden flurry of movement registered in the Unit Chief's peripheral vision. Before he could react, he felt a stinging pain in his right cheek as a resounding crack sounded in his ears… He'd been slapped for the first time since high school.
"I can't believe you KISSED me again!"
Both agents turned at the screech of the curtain once again being ripped open.
"You did WHAT?"
